Call me conspicuously delinquent, but we haven't taken family photos in over three years. Ugh, it pains me to type that. I don't know why or what the hang up was, but after Scotty's first birthday, we just kind of forgot about it.  Life kept rolling along and my crappy iPhone camera seemed to suffice. Mind you, images of the three of us all together are few and far between. We know we are a family; that's the important thing, right?

Well, cue my very talented and clever friend Jessica. She was on Communications Committee the year I chaired, and I honestly would have been lost without her design help and photography skills. She recently started a little photography business, and I'm so glad she is now offering her exceptional skill set to the general public.

Our original plan was to frolic in the snow on Mount Charleston with mugs of hot cocoa. The weather, however, had other ideas. Having worked up there for three years, I can tell you definitively: if you can't see the mountain, you shouldn't be on the mountain. Those low hanging, ominous clouds looked terribly foreboding. Combined with whipping, unforgiving winds, our snow-date got shelved and we decided to keep indoors.

The best thing about Jess is that she makes you feel comfortable immediately. We are not the easiest family to photograph. I like to micro manage, Brian's natural smile takes a bit of coercing, and Scotty was on silliness overload. Somehow, she pulled us together with some gentle guidance and the promise of tiny marshmallows.  She also made our house look pretty good. You can barely see the crumbs ground into the rug. Twinkling Christmas lights, anyone?

And as you can see, your kid is still your kid, even on family photo day.

And you are still you. Brian and I had the unfortunate mistake of staying out a wee bit too late on Friday. It was date night! There was an Irish bar involved! I'm still in post-marathon celebration mode! (how long is she going to keep talking about that damn marathon?  you wonder...Forever, I reply) and that made for a rough morning. As Jess snapped photos for lighting and Brian made a quick run to CVS for Advil, she captured this winner.

Just call me McKayla Maroney. I was not impressed with how slowly the coffee was brewing. Or the pounding in my head.

But the goods worked their magic and Brian and I quickly perked up.

I quite like this one. I feel a bit like the Queen Mother. Yes, royal subjects, please stand while I remain seated...

Or this one. I didn't tell Jess, but this is the train my dad made for Scotty. Having it in the photos was incredibly important to me. She seemed to grasp its emotional significance almost intuitively, and it's in practically every shot.

We even headed out to a nearby tree farm for some outdoor shots once the weather improved. 

Yup, that's our kid.

I cant' tell you the excitement of seeing our little family all together in one shot. Thank you, Jessica!

Indiana Grandma rolled into town last night.

Which means if you are the Bear, life is pretty sweet right now.

And if you are Brian and I, it means you get a TWO-NIGHT stay-cation in a world-class hotel on the fabulous Las Vegas Strip. We plan to eat, drink, lay by the pool, and best of all...SLEEP IN! Ahhhh....I can't wait.

Let's hope these crazy kids stay out of trouble while we are gone.

So much for blogging every day about the 1/2 marathon on Saturday.

Blogging, just like everything else, was preempted by other crap. I had the best of intentions of dedicating this week to the Summerlin half but life took over and squashed my plans. I had written out the entries in my head - My Lemur Diet, Out of the Darkness, and then today's entry, but instead of being transcribed onto my computer, it looks like they will live in my head for a little longer. Darn life. Actually, I should say, darn annual report, but only about 30% of my viewing audience would understand what that means.

(and I hope you 30% just uttered a collective groan on my behalf. I curse you, annual report!)

Anyways, I planned to write about why I run today, since in the days before any race (whether it's a half marathon or a 5K), I find myself asking, "Why am I doing this to myself?!" And trust me, that doubt runs deep. I didn't go out with friends on Wednesday night due to the race on Saturday. I've been eating like a lemur (oh, that would make so much more sense to you if I had been able to blog on Wednesday!) for two months now. Waking up at 5:30 and running in the dark is old hat by now (again, Thursday entry would have really expounded on this, complete with Keith Morrison's voice always in the back of my head as I run through the darkness and visualize my inevitable kidnapping...."She was a wife, a mother, and a new runner. Little did Kimberly know that the morning she set out to complete five miles, her life would take a dramatically different route...") and besides, the time change has literally allowed me to run with the sun. I feel a bit like an old vampire, waking up to a new day. It's delicious though blinding.

Vampires and Dateline NBC aside, running a sport for crazy people. That's what I've come up with. It does not make any sense unless it's the zombie apocalypse and you are running for food/medical supplies, or wolves are chasing you (zombie apocalypse not withstanding.) The idea of running 13.1 miles tomorrow makes me shiver, and it's not just because the HIGH is 55 (WTH???), complete with RAIN and HIGH WINDS (OMG I just threw up); it's because I really don't want to have a repeat of December's half-marathon disaster. (oh please please please don't let me need a medic).

Thankfully, our very smart and very experience running coach from last fall asked all of us on the team to write a little essay about why we run. Like a true dork, I loved this idea. Writing? Yes, please! So I typed up a few paragraphs for her and emailed it away. She responded and asked if she could share my essay with the rest of the team. I said sure, why not. I got a lot of really nice feedback, and as I started to have doubts about this Saturday's race, I re-read my email. What I wrote still stands true and I thought I would share it with you as well.

I cried when I wrote it and cried again reading it over. But it's how I feel and it gives me energy and motivation for tomorrow to go kick some serious half-marathon butt.

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Per Melissa's instructions, here is the reason I am running the Vegas 1/2 marathon this year.

On May 6, 2011, my dad was diagnosed with colon cancer.  He told me about the diagnosis on May 18. By May 26, they had determined that it had spread to his liver. He began chemo on June 6, and I flew out to see him on June 7. (My parents live in Indiana). My sister (who lives in MN) and I left on June 12 and on June 13, he was hospitalized. He died from liver failure on June 16. He was one week short of his 61st birthday.

My dad was a gentle, kind man who loved his family. He never hurt anyone, and to have him taken from us so early - and so quickly - absolutely destroyed me. I spent most of July crying. In August, I stopped crying and started running. I figured out that I couldn't cry if I was running, because it was impossible to breathe. So I ran as much as I could to stop crying.

In late August, a friend mentioned Boot Camp to me and I went to my first-ever Hill Day. It was the perfect distraction to my grief, since for the first time since my dad got sick, I didn't think about it. I had to concentrate 100% on not passing out/throwing up during the work out. The marathon team started in early September, and despite the fact I had never run more than 3 miles at a time, I winged it and signed up. I figured if Hill Day is a good distraction and running stops me from crying, than marathon training would be the best of both worlds.

So that's my reason for signing up for the marathon. I'm not doing it to honor my dad necessarily, since he was not a runner, but I'm doing it to give meaning to his life. I want to challenge myself and live my life to its fullest, something I realized after he passed.

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See you at the finish line.